Your Arms Are My Shelter, Your Heart Is My Home
by Montelini
Summary: My attempt of giving 5x10 a different ending and fix what can only be fixed in the world of Fanfiction.


**So, this is what happened after watching 5x10. I honestly didn't want to write a fix-it-fic but this somehow happened by itself. I guess scrawling down almost 10.000 words in around 10 hours and not being a native speaker says it all, haha. I hope there are not too many typos and you can fully enjoy this little OS! :)**

* * *

She decides to call it a day the moment her head almost falls on the keyboard of her computer because she's _that_ tired. She doesn't know why but she's felt beat and somehow ready to hit the cushions every minute of every day for the past 72 hours. It's like something is sucking her energy on every possible level and there's absolutely no motivation to stay in the office for even one minute longer than she has to.

It's late though, almost 10pm, but that's how it goes. Her job isn't the regular 8-hours job. She doesn't have a relaxed 5-days week. She works overtime almost every single day, today proving no difference as they are still preparing an undercover gig. She works the weekends, the holidays. Whatever it takes. She does it. And it's good like that.

She turns her head to gaze out of the window when she thinks of the various reasons why she's glad that she doesn't have too much time to be all by herself, why she's thankful that work is eating all the free time up, that every normal individual would highly appreciate.

It's dark outside. Though it's never really dark in New York City. There are always lights, cars, busses, people, sirens, honking and it's true what they say about the Big Apple: it really is the city that never sleeps. Even when the sun has long gone down this city is filled with life that sometimes Erin is still amazed by how busy people in New York are at a time when other people in other cities would usually long hit the cushions. Or at least be at home. But she's become one of these people in the last few months as well. She's also constantly leaving the office late and goes shopping for the few groceries she needs every week at a time she actually wishes no one has to work.

She turns her head back to her computer, the black screen signalising her that it's successfully shut down while her mind was at some different place. She gets up with a sigh, mainly because she's been battling headaches for the whole day and getting up feels like someone is hitting her with a hammer, and quickly slips into her winter jacket. She pulls her favorite beanie over her head and reaches for the bag that is resting on the floor.

Heading out, she turns the lights off, thinking that at least one office in one of this city's huge and high buildings will not be illuminated any longer, and she shortly knocks on her bosses office to tell her that she's done for the day but Jen looks up before she can say good night.

″You going home?″ the blonde woman asks the obvious, yet it is a question Erin can't answer. Because no, she's not going home. She's not been going home for a very long time in fact.

Because there's no home here. Home is still some other city that is more than 800 miles away. Her apartment here just happens to be the place she lives, the place that makes sure she doesn't have to sleep under some bridge and freeze to death during the winters that are supposed to be even uglier than the winters she knows from home.

This is New York. The city that happens to be the city she works in. It might as well be San Diego or Austin or Miami. It doesn't matter. Because she doesn't care. She doesn't care about the city she works in because it's not home. She's never felt the urge to bring justice to the streets of New York like she had for the city that was still the only one she's ever called home. Because New York wasn't _her_ Chicago. Because her heartbeat has never picked up on the rhythm and the vibes of the city and it never will. This city isn't her lifeline. Because she's left her life in Chicago all those months back and the only thing of her that is in the Big Apple is her silhouette and nothing more.

″Erin?″ Jen frowns, her voice bringing Erin back to reality. Back to New York. And away from the thoughts of the city she will never stop missing.

″Uhm, sorry,″ she smiles faintly. ″I'm just tired.″

″Then I hope you'll have a good night of sleep tonight,″ Jen winks before getting serious from one second to the other. ″You need to be on top of your game tomorrow.″

″I will be, no worries,″ Erin assures her instantly.

″Good. You are the best undercover agent we've had in a long time.″

Usually, compliments that she is an absolute ace in what she's doing should make her heart skip a beat. They should make her unbelievably proud because she really made it. But these days they don't. Because as far as she sees it, she's just doing her job. That she does it in an extraordinary way, a way that usually earns her all the credits when they solve a case successfully after she's been put under for weeks, a way that her bosses reward with giving her the most difficult and dangerous undercover gigs, a way that will soon bring her to Bolivia for a couple of weeks or even months, doesn't really mean anything to her. She's just thankful for the distraction. And in fact, she's always been good at pretending. Whether it is pretending she's fine when she isn't or pretending to be someone she isn't, doesn't make much of a difference. That's what she's brilliant at.

Sometimes she wonders whether the people she works with recognize how much she is pretending every time she walks into the office. Because neither is she the young, confident woman that enjoyed her New York adventure and is happy with her new life, nor is she anywhere near of being fine. But that's what she tells them. She pretends to be confident and happy and fine. And they believe her. Or maybe they don't but it doesn't bother them. That's something she can live with as well. Because she's not here to make friends and the minute she moved to New York she'd decided to strictly seperate the business and the personal. They are not hanging out in a bar together after work, talk about family and sports teams and everything else they can't talk during those busy days. Because they are all not _her_ people. So she's just here to do her job. To come to terms with being away from Chicago for good. To move on. To rebuild a life she even after six months is still struggling with putting all the pieces back together after it bursted into a million all those months back.

″Thank you,″ she answers with a forced smile. ″Good night.″

 **XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX**

As always, the streets of Manhattan are busy when Erin walks to the subway station, the earplugs in her ears and the music resounding from her phone ensuring that nothing of the city turmoil comes close to her. It's cold, the smell of snow and winter mixed into the typical and ever-existing smells of fumes and a city that is too full of people.

She's lucky today and she doesn't even have to wait for the subway as it arrives the moment she reaches the bottom of the stairs and with a short sprint, she makes it through the closing doors. She's not lucky with getting a seat today. Because that's the next thing about New York City. Even though it's after 10pm it doesn't mean that there are empty seats in the subway and so she's standing in the aisle, watching a young girl breakdancing down the aisle to make some money because not even with earplugs she has a chance to ignore the loud hip hop beat from the girl's speakers.

She's in Brooklyn around 15 minutes later, and she stops by her favorite Indian restaurant just one block away from her apartment building to get some decent food because so far, she's filled her stomach with an unhealthy amount of coffee and some bagel today and her stomach was signalising her that it wasn't satisfied at all with the sparse meals she's been providing it with often in the last few months. She's a regular customer, stops by at least once a week, given that she's not on some undercover assignment, and they naturally know her by name. She orders what she always does and doesn't forget to leave them a generous tip because not only are they nice people but she feels bad for them that they have long hours every single day only to make sure that people like her won't starve to death.

Unlocking her apartment, she kicks her shoes off and throws her bag on the floor so she can pick it up from this exact same spot tomorrow morning because yes, that's the mess she lives in, and before she plops down on the couch with a bottle of beer and the deliciously smelling chicken masala and naan bread, she changes into yoga pants and a hoodie to get as comfortable as possible.

The TV is running while she digs into her food and shovels one fork after the other into her mouth and once her stomach is too full for her own good, she rearranges some of the pillows on her couch to lie down while watching TV for another minute, and the biggest and fluffiest of all the pillows is the one she's pulling into her chest. It's not like there's anything else, or anyone else for that matter, she is holding onto these days.

She only realizes she's fallen asleep when her phone is vibrating on the coffee table next to the empty takeout container and the beer bottle, and she's somehow jolted awake by this buzzing sound since it is completely unexpected. Their case and the undercover gig that comes with it only kick off tomorrow, so there shouldn't be a call from someone from work. But no one else would ever call her around midnight and so she figures that she must've forgotten to prepare something important – not that it would actually surprise her because her mind's been all over the place for the last three days for a reason she still struggled to figure out.

She reaches for her phone without paying attention to the caller ID. Because she's too tired and her eyes are too heavy and she just wants to tell Jen or whoever else from her work this might be that whatever is going on she would do first thing in the morning.

″Lindsay,″ she mumbles into the phone and the moment the familiar raspy voice on the other end of the phone is saying: ″Erin, it's me,″ she's wide awake from one second to the other.

″Hank.″ She breathes his name out like a question and she can't hide the nervousness in her voice. When there's one thing she knows for sure, ever since not being a cop in his unit anymore, Hank Voight would never call her around midnight unless there is an emergency that requires a phone call in the middle of the night. And so her heart skips a beat in that moment. Or two. Or three. Because she knows whatever it is, it must be bad and the first thing that crosses her mind is that someone from their unit caught a deadly bullet.

″What's going on?″ she asks simultaneously with her mind still working through different scenarios why her father-figure is calling her when the clock hands have already turned past midnight.

″Do you remember what I told you on the day you left?″ he asks and this question comes almost as unexpected as this whole phone call.

″Uhm, what?″ she utters in confusion and as much as she tries to figure out why he's asking her this all of out things at 12.21am, her mind doesn't come up with any idea.

″Don't look back,″ he says but she still has no clue what he's talking about.

″What?″ she asks again.

″That's what I told you on the day you left. Don't look back.″

Only now she understands what he's talking about and while she's still not able to figure out where this is going, she suddenly remembers this moment vividly. Mainly because that's what she's done in the last few months. She hasn't looked back. Unfortunately, she hasn't moved on either. But that isn't the point. The point is that not once she has looked back. She has severed her ties with everyone expect the man she was currently talking with. She deleted every phone number that still connected her to Chicago though when it came to deleting _his_ number, her finger had hesitated over the button for hours. Probably days. But in the end she did it. She cut down the urge to take a cab to LaGuardia and take the next flight back to the city that owned her heart. So yes, one could say she hasn't looked back since she left. But this doesn't mean it's not a battle she has to face every single minute of every single day.

″I remember,″ Erin finally says and she guesses that Hank thinks it took her so long to answer because this is a memory she's long forgotten. ″Why?″

″Because I was wrong and I take it back,″ he admits and for the split of a second Erin isn't sure whether she's heard right because Hank admitting that he was wrong and taking something back is as rare of an occasion as seeing a polar bear in Australia.

″What happened?″ she asks again and her heart is almost beating in her throat.

At first there's silence but then she finally gets to know the reason for this late-night call and it shatters her to her core. ″Jay dug himself a rabbit hole so deep that I'm afraid neither I or anyone else can reach him.″

For a second, the world around her turns black and she doesn't know whether she's passing out or whether her heart is stop beating or whether it's the result of both, but in this moment she doesn't know where she is, who she is and what is happening. _Jay._ The name she's successfully erased from her brain in the last few months. _Jay._ The name of the man who was the best partner in the history of ever. _Jay._ The name of the man whose sparkling, ocean blue eyes combined with his boyish, adorable smile can cure the world from all the bad things. _Jay._ The name of the man who saved her when she was too stubborn to admit she needed salvation. _Jay._ The name of the man who had a guy for everything, who could cheer her up with the simplest gesture, who made her reconsider her decision that she isn't cut to be a wife or mother because with him this whole deal thing suddenly seemed appealing. _Jay._ The name of the man, the only man, she ever truly loved. _Still does._

She forces herself to swallow the lump in her throat and after inhaling a deep breath, she asks for the third time within the last few minutes: ″What happened?″ It's like her brain can't come up with anything else than these two words.

″It's a mess,″ he sighs. ″We had a case a couple of weeks back that I think triggered something from his past. I kept a close eye on him and thought he has it under control. But things escalated quickly and these last three days, I had to learn that he slipped away under my watch and that he's at some much darker place than I thought.″

 _Three days._ That's all Erin can think about while Hank tells her some superficial details about Jay being involved in some crime because he hung with the wrong crowds that night. She actually doesn't want to allow herself to think like this but she can't help it: suddenly it seems to make sense why she's felt like crap for the past three days. Why she's felt down and drained and exhausted. Why she's battled headaches and sometimes felt like being hit by a truck. Because beyond the time that passed and the things that happened and the distance between them this beautiful, invisible connection they've always had is still working.

″I went to his apartment earlier.″ Those words catch her attention again after only catching some scraps of conversation before. ″And when I looked him in the eyes while I told him that I hope there's a way out of this hole, I not only saw a broken man but a man who is endlessly lost and who can't keep fighting this inner battle that splits him in two any longer because there's nothing left that's worth fighting for. Because he lost every reason of happiness and questions the meaning of his life. Because he's alone against the world as there's no one who understands him and can give him the comfort he needs.″ The tears are running down her cheeks like a monsoon and there's nothing she can do about it but the peak is yet to come and when Hank almost whispers his next words, she's sure he can hear her heart breaking all the way from New York to Chicago. And probably every living individual around the globe can. ″At least not in Chicago.″

He doesn't have to say that that's the reason she has to look back. That she has to come back to keep Jay from going down a path so dark that no one can ever get him back from. That he's afraid to lose a great detective, a great man, a person he's really learned to appreciate in the last few years. She knows all that and it doesn't even take her a second to make a decision. Because no matter of all the things that happened, all the things that led her to New York and away from him, and no matter that the thought of facing him scares the crap out of her because she doesn't know whether he even wants to see her and whether she can take seeing him, a long long long time ago – in a different life in fact – they promised each other to always have each other's back. And all those years back, after Nadia's death, when she dug herself a hole as big that she sometimes still wonders how she made it out of there, he was the one to bring her back where she belonged. The one who kept fighting for her and never gave up on her, even though it would've been way easier. She doesn't know where she would be without him today – probably not in New York with a broken heart but probably still somewhere in that hole, dugging it deeper day by day. So that's what she owes him. To get him out of this doom loop and bring him back where he belongs although she has absolutely no idea how on earth she's supposed to do that.

″I'll be on the first plane out in the morning,″ she breathes out nervously. Maybe she will regret it, making such a rash decision. She doesn't know whether she can help him, whether he will let her be there for him or rather shut the door in her face the moment he opens it. She doesn't know anything except one thing: she will regret it forever if she doesn't even try.

 **XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX**

There's not such a thing as sleep tonight and after throwing some clothes into her carry-on bag, she paces up and down in her apartment because it feels like the walls and everything else are closing in around her. And so she goes for a run, in the middle of the night, to clear her head. But neither burning off some energy nor the fresh air help in any way and the hot shower she later takes doesn't have any soothing effect either.

She only types a message to Jen when she sits in the cab that brings her to LaGuardia at 4am in the morning, telling her boss that there's a family emergency in Chicago and that she has to take the first flight possible. _Family Emergency._ It isn't even a lie, considering that he once was the first and only man she could imagine tossing all her commitment issues overboard for and have her own little family with. Husband, wife, two children, a dog and a house in the suburbs. Jay waiting for her down the aisle in one of his nice suits. Jay swirling her through the air when she tells him she's carrying his baby. Jay holding this newborn, little human they created. Them going for family adventures on Sundays and family vacations in summer. To Wisconsin of course. This perfect place that he showed her once. Last summer, when this was the destination for their very first together vacation.

Erin shakes these thoughts off the moment she realizes that some single tears are rolling down her cheeks and she's glad when the cab finally parks in front of the LaGuardia airport so she can lose herself in the turmoil this place provides at 4.30 in the morning.

Unfortunately, there's no flight available in the next few hours – it's Friday and some commuters might already travel home to have a 3-days weekend with their families after being away for 4 days – and the only thing they can do for her is booking her into the next possible flight at 8.15am and putting her on stand-by at the same time, so in case someone cancels their flight last-minute, she can snatch the seat.

Of course no one is giving up their seat today and so she has to play the waiting game until finally, they board flight DL5963 to Chicago O'Hare and if the reason for her going back wasn't such a heartbreaking one, she would actually be excited that she is on a plane back to the Windy City. Of course they don't start boarding in time today and so it's already 8.30am by the time the flight attendant says that boarding is completed. Of course it was as cold last night that they now have to defrost the plane first and so it's almost 9am when the Airbus A320 with destination Chicago finally takes off.

 **XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX**

Luckily she doesn't have to wait for her luggage because she's traveling simple, with only carry-on, and when she steps out of the airport, the air she inhales has some kind of weird, healing effect on her and she feels like a different person only from being here. There shouldn't be a difference between New York air and Chicago air, it is all just air after all, yet for her, there is, even if it's only her brain messing with her.

She's gazing around to look for a free cab that can bring her to the city but her eyes instantly find a familiar car. She told Hank that he should go to work, that he doesn't need to pick her up and he agreed. The fact that he is here now anyway makes her stomach turn a little and the tiniest good feeling she had disappears. Because she knows there's a reason why Hank is here in person now. And whatever it might be, she's sure it has to do with Jay.

She quickly walks over to his car and he pulls her into a hug as soon as she's close enough. ″Hey kiddo,″ he mumbled into her hair.

″Hey,″ she says and pulls out of his embrace to face him. ″What's going on?″

″I'll tell you in the car,″ he says contritely and takes her bag to put it into the trunk.

Her heartbeat isn't anywhere near of being normal when she hops into the passenger's seat where she's a second later joined by Hank. He pulls out on the street and Erin is about to ask him again, because she's dying to know what's going on, when he opens his mouth to tell her the reason why their plans changed.

″Jay didn't show up this morning.″ To everyone else, his voice would seem normal but Erin can hear the worriedness in it and her heart drops to her knees by his words. This whole situation seems to be even worse than she thought, and the man she always thought is somehow invincible – because he was always her rock and savior – seems to be all the way in in that dark rabbit hole. This thought makes her shudder. Because she knows exactly how it is like when nothing makes sense anymore and the only things that can take the pain away are isolation, partying and alcohol. Because it's so easy to get in deeper but so damn hard to get out of there.

″Did you try to call him?″ she asks although she already knows the answers. Of course they tried.

″Multiple times,″ Hank confirms. ″We were led straight to voicemail.″

″What about Will? Did you ask Will?″ she asks, her voice almost panicking.

″He hasn't seen him in days,″ he sighs.

″What about his apartment? Maybe he's there?″

″He's not there. Al and I checked it and we even asked the janitor for a key. He wasn't there. We told the janitor to call us when he comes back but so far...nothing.″ He stops at a red traffic light and places his hand atop hers when he sees her fighting with her emotions. ″Do you have any idea where he could be?″

″No,″ she whispers defeated and turns her head to the side to gaze out of the window, signalising her father-figure that she doesn't want to talk about it. That she can't talk about it right now.

They continue to drive through those familiar streets, those streets she all knows by name, and the famous silhouette of her city comes closer. It's starting to snow, sky opening its gates and letting those white flakes fall down. It's unfamiliar, riding shotgun and being able to stare out of the window. She's always been the one to drive. That's something that hasn't changed. Even in New York she's still the driver. Only that she made it a rule and not something she could tease her partner about like she had with Jay.

One of the last times she actually traded her seat for the passenger's seat was when they drove all the way up to Northern Wisconsin to spend their vacation in the cabin his grandfather had built. She let him drive while putting her feet up on the dashboard and gazing out of the window, while eating sandwiches and muffins and donuts and giving him the food his rumbling stomach craved for. He smiled like a kid on Christmas morning when she handed him the keys, asking him whether he wanted to drive.

It was her very best vacation. Ever. They swam in the lake and went for hikes. They used a canoe to paddle over the water and relaxed in the sun while lying in the grass. They made bonfires and grilled marshmallows and cooked together. They made love. Countless times. And he told her some tiny bits and pieces about his past, how this place had been his safe haven after coming home from war.

 _This place, it had the ability to take me through the night._

″I know where he is,″ she suddenly exclaims, her voice nothing but a whisper as the scales fall from her eyes, as these memories hurt so much that she isn't sure how much longer she can sit straight before doubling over. Back then, he didn't tell her about Abby or anything else that happened after coming home, but he told her about the magic of this place and how it turned out to heal him in some way. Out of a sudden, it seems so crystal clear that he's there that she has to hold herself back from getting excited. But she _knows_ it. She just simply knows it. She will find the blue-eyed, freckled man there, at this place that was one of the few that provided him only good memories.

″Erin!″ Hank calls and her head snaps up. She doesn't know how many times he's said her name in the last minute but given by his tone it must've been quite some times. ″Where do I have to drive?″

″Nowhere,″ she shakes her head. ″I have to drive there myself. But I need your car.″

 **XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX**

The drive to Northern Wisconsin seems to be twice as long as last time. But it's probably just the lack of company. Nonetheless have six hours never felt longer than those six hours of driving through wide open spaces on empty roads, the world around her turning whiter the further she drives up north. She only allows herself to stop once to pee, to fill up on gas and buy something to eat that she only realizes she can't eat when she's back in the car and the smell of burger is invading her nostrils and so she only takes a few sips from the coke she hopes will help her nervous stomach to settle and continues to drive.

It's dark outside when she reaches the cabin and she parks her car a little down the narrow road because she doesn't want to scare him. It's not like there are any other cars regularly stopping by up here. That's the beauty of this place. If you don't want to see any people, you don't have to.

She slowly sets one foot in front of the other, leaving her trace in the snow, and as she makes her way to the cabin, she wonders whether it's possible that he's not here and what she would do then. Maybe this is too beautiful of a place to go when stuck in some dark rabbit hole. Maybe, while she is walking through the darkness in the middle of nowhere, he is in Chicago, partying hard until he's numb. Maybe she can't save him because she already fails to find him.

Those thoughts however, are all vanished the moment the cabin appears in the darkness because there's light behind the windows and there's a car parked in the driveway. His car. She lets out a breath of relief she doesn't know she's been holding and makes her way through the frontyard and up the two steps to the porch. Him being here doesn't mean she can save him but it's something. At least now she can try. And that's what she owes him.

With that in mind, she takes all her courage and knocks on the wooden door, not being sure whether her racing heart will even make it until he opens the door or whether she might pass out before with an actual heart attack.

 **XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX**

The unexpected knock on the door startles him as much that he jumps up from the couch with his hand reaching for his gun on the coffee table instantly and for a moment he considers only opening it with his piece hidden behind his back. Because it's not like this is happening regularly. That someone is knocking on the door, especially when no one knows that he's here.

However, he quickly figures that probably one of the neighbors a couple miles down the road saw the smoke coming from the chimney and now wants to make sure that not an uninvited guest is making himself a home in the cabin that is usually abandoned for the better part of the year.

This thought makes him leave his gun on the kitchen table when he walks to the door and even when someones wants to rob him or there's an ax murderer in front of the door, so what? He isn't up for any fight these days and whatever they want to do, he's the perfect victim, not standing upon his defence.

In between one of the neighbors, a burglar and an ax murderer, the very last thing he's expecting are those familiar hazel orbs he's facing the moment he opens the door and wondering whether he's halucinating because he's had his fair amount of whiskey today, he stumbles back a few steps because there's no way, absolutely no way, that the woman who once was and although he tries to deny it, still is, the love of his life, the woman who left without such a thing as a goodbye all these months back and left him back with a ring in his pocket, is standing in front of the door of his cabin in Northern Wisconsin.

″Jay,″ she breathes his name out like it's the only word in her vocabulary and her voice finds his way right to his heart but he can't tell whether this is just some dream because her voice was a constant part of his dreams before the darkness took over.

″Erin,″ he whispers in disbelief and his eyes take her in like he fears that she will disappear any second. Her hair has grown a little longer but her skin is pale and there are dark circles under her eyes, probably similar to his own, and there's none of her famous glow surrounding her. Even though she's wearing a thick winter jacket he can see in her face that she's lost weight. He doesn't know what's going on in her life but he knows she isn't happy. Not that this is any of his business anymore. This stopped being his business the moment she left everything behind, including him.

″What are you doing here?″ he asks because this _really_ is what he can't find an explanation for.

She inhales deeply and he can see her swallowing hardly. She always did that when she was nervous and didn't know what to say. And apparently she still does. ″I'll try to keep you from doing things you'll regret one day,″ she answers, never taking her eyes away from him.

″I don't need your help,″ he shruggs and closes the door because all he needs is being alone. That's the main reason why he's here. Because there's no one who tells him what to do.

″Jay,″ she chokes and her hand is wrapped around his lower arms before the door is shut. His body stiffens by her touch, by her soft skin on his skin, by feeling her again when he thought he never would be close to her again and he feels a little bit of life returning to his body. Is it possible?

″You do,″ she simply says when words and actions fail him.

They stare in each others eyes, blue in hazel, hazel in blue, and the amount of pain that reflects from them is equal. She doesn't take her hand away as they just stared at each other like their lives depended on it, and honestly, he doesn't want her to. And so he opens the door to let her in in more than just one way. Because the moment she passes the threshold he knows she's stepping back into his life. And he isn't sure whether allowing her to do that is something he will regret soon. Like for example when she's stepping out of his life again.

He plops down on the couch and reaches for his glass of whiskey while she's discarding her jacket somewhere by the door and she joins him a couple seconds later, eyeing the whiskey bottle shortly.

″How are you doing?″ she asks quietly and for him it seems like a desperate attempt to say something when she actually doesn't know what to say. Or do. Because only now she realizes that she doesn't have a plan. Or magic powers to change the atmosphere. He can still read her like an open book and it's truly scary.

″I'm fine,″ he shruggs and takes a sip from the liquor that fills his glass.

The thing is, Erin can still read him like an open book as well. Not that this right now is much of a challenge for her. Every stranger could proabably figure out that he is anything but fine.

″You're not,″ she notices the obvious and her voice is soft and calm and simply everything he's missed these last few months.

″Why do you ask when you actually know better anyway?″ he asks and takes another sip from the whiskey that does nothing but burn in his throat.

″Because I want you to tell me the truth. Because I know pretending to be fine when you're not doesn't make it better. Only worse,″ she says meaningfully and even though there's a lot of alcohol in his system, he understands what she's trying to say. She's been there.

″Been there, done that, huh?″

″Yes,″ she admits without hesitation. ″It's not something I'm proud of.″

″Huh,″ he shruggs and once again his lips get a taste of the whiskey as he brings the glass close. ″Okay, I'm miserable, there you have it,″ he says sarcastically. ″Why are you here, Erin?″

″Because I care about you.″ Her voice is a whisper and when he looks at her he's sure to see her eyes sparkle suspiciously even though her silhouette is only illuminated by the fire from the fireplace in front of them. ″Because when I was in a hole so deep that everyone gave up trying to reach out for me, you were still there. Despite my attitude, my drug antics, my partying, my sleeping around, you never stopped trying. Even though I gave you every reason to. You were the one person who was there and when there's one thing I know for sure it's that you brought me back to life.″ Her voice breaks in the end and after inhaling a deep breath, she whispers. ″You never gave up on me.″

It's hard to understand her but he does. And because of her honesty and the vulnerability she's showing him, and probably because of the alcohol in his system, the next words tumble out of his mouth before he can think about them. ″Because I loved you.″

She flinches when these words fill the air and when their eyes meet she looks like a doe in the beam of the headlights. ″And there you have another reason why I'm here.″

This time, it's him who flinches. Because he doesn't know what she's trying to say. Is she here because she once loved him? Or because she still loves him? For the first time tonight, he places his glass back on the coffee table next to the couch without refilling it because suddenly he wants to know more of her reasons and he wants to have more conversations. He wants to know what she means and he wants to know _why_ she's here. And he wants to do all of that as sober as possible.

″How did you know I was here?″

″Where else would you be?″ she asks back softly and she reaches out to place her hand atop his. The touch is familiar and he doesn't pull away. He doesn't want to. ″You once told me that this place has some healing powers, that it has the ability to take you through the night. And I will help with taking you through the night and battle all these demons. If you let me.″

Their eyes meet again and beyond all the things he saw in them earlier, he now sees an overwhelming amount of love. The way she looks at him, it reminds him of how she looked at him when he was her hero, her back-up, the man she said I love you to. It reminds him that she was once the person he could share his secrets with – though he made the biggest mistake of his life by leaving the biggest one out in order to protect her – and that she was the only person who truly seemed to understand him. It reminds him that once she was _his_ person. And yes, whether he struggles to accept it or not, she still fucking is.

And so he talks it off his chest. He tells her every little detail of shooting the little girl and her pretty face haunting him in his dreams. He tells her about Luis and being put under and his struggles of distinguishing between playing a role and being his real self. He tells her about Camilla, how she was a welcome distraction and how things spiraled downwards pretty quick. He tells her about lying to Hank and risking his job because he told himself what he and Camilla had was real. He tells her about never revealing his true identity but with it feeling more like himself every time he was Ryan and not Jay. He tells her how he had to force himself to tell Camilla that he loved her and that seldomly something has ever felt so wrong as telling her the three most important little words two people could share. He doesn't tell her that he could say them right now and they wouldn't feel wrong but he tells her how he lost his whole support system the moment she left.

In the end, they both cry and they find solace in each other's arms like they are shelters. Erin buries her head in his chest and he buries his head in the crook of her beck as they hold onto each other frantically, as if they will disappear if they don't. They sit there in silence, the only noise being the crackle of the fire, and holding each other close, their arms their shelters, a lot of broken pieces seem to come back together again, including the big broken pieces that were their hearts.

″I'm so sorry,″ Erin somewhen whispers and she lifts her head to look at him, her eyes shining in various tones of green and hazel.

″Thank you for being here,″ Jay whispers and reaches out to cover her cheek with his palm and swipe the last tears away with his thumb.

″There's no place I'd rather be tonight,″ she admits quietly, looking directly into his eyes.

He doesn't know whether it's her honesty or her raspy voice or her eyes or the heat of the moment but suddenly their lips meet like two magnets that are attracting each other and can't be kept apart and their lips melt into those familiar curves as they exchanged their ever softest and most unhurried kiss. And suddenly, as he tastes her lips on his own, he can see the light breaking through the darkness and no later than when his tongue delves into her mouth, he can't imagine anymore that a little over an hour ago, there was an overwhelming and threatening darkness surrounding him.

They make out on the couch like two lovestruck teenagers and it's almost ironic that once again the reunion of their bodies happens on the couch. Piece by piece of clothing is discarded to the floor and they explore each other's body like this isn't familiar turf but something excitingly new and somehow, it is. Because somehow all those feelings and all the love seem even deeper now, after six months of radio silence and going through hell, so there is something new about it.

And when he finally enters her and her wet walls welcome him, the clocks stop ticking and the stars stop rising and the earth stops turning. Because now he's home and he only has to look down in her face to know she's too.

 **XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX**

They spend the weekend in Wisconsin, in this winterwonderland, and enjoy two days of bliss and making up for lost time. It feels like a dream and they are both afraid to suddenly wake up with reality catching up on them.

It's not a dream but reality catches up on them eventually anyway and although they both rather want to cocoon in this cozy cabin for a little while longer, they have to go back because not only does Hank need his finest detective back but also is Jen going crazy because they have a huge undercover assignment coming up. And so they drive back to Chicago, in seperate cars but connected by their hearts and Erin gives Jen a quick call that she will be back in the office around lunchtime tomorrow. Because she wants to spend another night with her new old love. That however, is something she didn't tell her boss.

They arrive in Chicago in the evening and as she follows him upstairs to his new apartment there's a conversation that needs to be made in the air. Probably they've both seperately come to this conclussion during the drive. _Where do we go from here?_

There are two things that surprise her when she steps into the apartment. It's a complete mess and it's not at all what he always wanted. It small, sparse and somehow ugly. But thinking about it, she isn't surprised at all. A fancy apartment wasn't high on his list of priorities after their together apartment didn't exist anymore.

″I'm surprised there's no toilet next to the stove,″ she mentions casually and it earns her a big chuckle. It's so easy. To go back to the banter, the flirting, the teasing. Almost as if it was never gone, as if there isn't this huge gap in their relationship. _Relationship._ Is that still what it is?

″Yeah well, can't have everything,″ he winks and the smile he gives her makes her heart melt.

″Obviously,″ she smirks and wraps her arms around his waist. Standing on her tiptoes, she presses a gentle kiss against his lips.

″Do you have a toilet next to the stove?″ he raises his eyebrows at her.

″Totally,″ she nods deadpan but she can't keep the gaze and starts to giggle. She actually fucking giggles. And damn does it feel good to be so blithe. And happy. And she decides she never wants it differently again.

″I guess I need to see that at some point,″ he says with a grin but there's a silent request behind his statement and of course she hears the unspoken.

″You're always welcome to visit,″ she says and emphasizes her statement with a lingering kiss.

″What about next weekend?″

Her heart wants to scream _yes_ but unfortunately she has a job that might require her to work for the next two weeks straight.

″As much as I'd love for you to come, we have this new undercover assignment and I might not be home for two weeks.″ His face drops by her words and it breaks her heart. She doesn't want him to think that this was another of their famous one-time-deals. This is so much more. And he deserves to know that. ″I will text you the minute I'm done so the weekend that follows will be all ours.″ She kisses him again while her mind is weighing whether it's too early to tell him. They've only gotten back together two nights ago, so now is probably not the right time to speak them out loud. But then again, what the hell, when there's one thing that has always been there it is the thing that is a simple word that consisted of four letters. ″I love you.″

His lips curve into the cutest, happiest smile and his eyes sparkle in all shades of blue and in a way, she three nights ago didn't think is possible. ″I love you, too.″

And that's that.

 **XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX**

As promised she texts him the minute her undercover gig is over two-and-a-half weeks later. She's beat and the fact that it's only Tuesday afternoon doesn't change her mood for the better because the earliest Jay can come is Friday night or Saturday morning and that's too far away for her liking. In addition, she hasn't talked to her boyfriend since the morning before she went undercover and neither has she been able to send him one text. It was too risky and she couldn't risk losing her cover. Not now that there was this special someone back in her life that makes her smile happily at all times and makes her answer the question about her well-being with fine for the first time since moving to New York.

She's sure everybody has picked up on that the minute she walked into the office around lunchtime on that Monday two-and-a-half weeks ago with a genuine smile on her face, the new light that suddenly let her glow again probably blinding them all. Having a conversation with Jen, she came clean though because the agent of course questioned the reasons for her absence and she quickly told her that the family emergency had taken the most positive turn.

Jay's message that he will try to catch a plane on Friday evening has her smiling and when she walks through the streets of Manhattan, she's able to enjoy the city vibes for the very first time. She stops by the Indian restaurant and goes home with a container of chicken masala and naan bread.

As always, she makes herself comfortable by slipping into Jay's shirt and some sweats and after eating all her food up, she curls up on the couch to watch TV and it isn't until there's a knock on the door that she realizes she's fallen asleep. Glancing at the clock in the kitchen tells her it's after midnight and she slept for more than four hours. There is no denying she needed it.

She shuffles to the door and taking a look through the peephole, she can't believe her eyes because the man she dreamt about while dozing on the couch is currently standing right in front of her door and she opens it with a wide smile on her face.

He walks in like he lives here, without saying a word, wrapping one arm around her waist to pull her close and his lips are on hers in the same second. Their kiss is hot and passionate and soon enough she finds herself pressed against the wall and only when they both struggle to breathe, they pull apart.

″Hey,″ he smirks, roaming her body and only now discovering the Cubs shirt she was wearing. His shirt. ″I thought I come to get what's mine,″ he says with a chuckle, tugging on the fabric of the shirt.

″And here I was, thinking that you've come for me,″ she smirks and raises her eyebrow cockily.

″This might be the second reason,″ he murmurs husikly and their lips melt again.

Clothes are discarded on the way to the bedroom and the first round of making love is fast and driven by pure passion and impatience. The second round is delicate and sweet and slow and mind-blowing and they need a while to get their erratic breathing back under control and their racing hearts back to normal afterwards.

″New York is a beautiful city. Really,″ Jay chuckles as they lie in the darkness of her bedroom, their naked, still sweaty bodies matted against each other as they came back from oblivion.

″You know, for the first time I enjoy it as well,″ she admits and he leans down to press a kiss on her forehead.

They fall into silence but there's one thing Erin has on her chest and after contemplating whether telling him now or not, she finally finds the courage in the way he softly kisses her hair and his hand travels up and down her spine. ″There's something I gotta tell you.″

″Is there?″ he asks and she can feel how his whole body stiffens.

″Yeah,″ she nods. ″There's a huge undercover assignment coming up. Six months, give or take. In Bolivia.″

He inhales a sharp breath and she knows that his world is shattering into pieces again right now. He just got her back and now he has to let her go again. But what he doesn't know is that there are conditions and that she only leaves for Bolivia under certain circumstances.

″There's an open spot and I thought you might want to be my partner again in more than just one way, so I talked to Jen. And it's yours in case you want to. It's a fresh start in a new country and I don't know whether there's still anything that holds you in Chicago but if not...-″

She's interrupted by his immediate answer. ″I'm in.″

″What?″ she utters.

″I'm in,″ he grins. ″You're right, there's nothing holding me in Chicago anyway with you being here. So it might as well be Bolivia. Although it's far away from home.″

″Jay, when there's one thing I've learned in the last few months and weeks, it's that I'm home wherever you are. As long as you're there, I feel home.″ She places her hand on his cheek, her thumb stroking over his stubble gently. ″You are my home.″

″And you are mine,″ he whispers and when their lips melt again, the third round of making love is just around the corner. "Your arms are my shelter, your heart is my home."

 **XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX**

Bolivia was a hell of a ride, the adventure of their lives and after successfully ending their undercover gig, they didn't return to New York. Or Chicago. They traveled. To Brazil. And Argentina. And Chile. They slept in tents and owned a jeep and cooked with gas cooker under starry skies. Jay proposed to her in Paraguay and they married on the beach of Costa Rica. Just the two of them and some magistrate. And all of this was just so them. Their honeymoon led them to Barbados and after almost a year of being away, they returned to the US. Not to New York. And not to Chicago either. They bought a house in Boston where Jay was offered to lead his own unit with the Boston PD and Erin worked within the department as well, but with troubled kids. She's had enough action and she felt like settling.

As Jay is walking through the hall of said house in Boston, the walls decorated with lots of photos from their adventures from three years ago, he slightly shakes his head by realizing that compared to what they've been through in the last 17 hours, Bolivia and exploring South America wasn't a hell of a ride at all. Because nothing can ever prepare someone for such a ride.

He opens the door of the room on the right and a even bigger smile is spreading across his face than the one that has been plastered there for an hour now.

″Daddy,″ the toddler babbles excitedly.

″Hey Noah,″ he says and picks his son up into his arms. His son. Sometimes he still can't believe that he has a son, that he and Erin created something so perfect. But here he is: Noah Benjamin Halstead, 22 months old, green eyes, some freckles, his hair more blonde than brown and sometimes they wondered where that hair color came from. And of course he just simply is the cutest, most adorable kid around the globe. Though he has some serious competition now.

″You know what happened an hour ago, bud?″ he asks him as they walk towards the bedroom.

″No no,″ Noah answers and shakes his head.

He opens the door of their bedroom and when his eyes fall on the scenery in front of him, his heart swells with pride and the amount of love he has for his wife grows even bigger.

″Your sister was born,″ he whispers and presses a kiss on Noah's temple.

″Sisser?″ Noah asks with big eyes.

″Yes, your sister, look.″ They join Erin in the bed, the rosy newborn all snuggled up to her mother as they both recover from the last 17 hours.

17 hours – that's how long it took Ava Pauline Halstead from the first contraction to finally say hello to the world with a healthy scream at 5.43am this morning. Born two weeks early, in their bedroom, at home, with the help of two midwifes, weighing 6lbs 5oz and meassuring 19 inches. An absolute doll that made those 17 hours of labor, contractions and pushing for Erin and of not being able to do anything other than supporting her in the best way possible for Jay, the most intense hours ever.

Noah was born at the hospital, after only seven hours and with an epidural, and Erin had hoped their little girl would favor her big brother and need even less time but their little lady showed them her head of her own and let them go through 17 intense hours. 17 hours that are somehow forgotten now, one hour later, when baby-bliss has taken over.

″Hey baby boy, this is your sister Ava,″ Erin says and kisses Noah's cheek and her smile is so genuine, it makes Jay fall in love with her all over again.

″Baby,″ Noah says in awe and reaches out to stroke Ava's cheek. ″Me luv baby.″

″I'm sure she loves you, too,″ Jay says emotionally.

He and Noah settle next to Erin and Ava and he wraps his arm around his exhausted wife to pull her closer. Noah is lying on him and the toddler can't keep his hands away from his new baby sister, wants to kiss and touch her all the time.

And as they enjoy their first precious moments as a family of four, of snuggling all together, Jay thanks whichever higher power is up there, whether it's fate or God or angels, for leading them to this exact point. They've always felt home when being with the other but now it feels like they were arriving at the port after a long sea travel for good and they are exactly where they are supposed to be. With each other. With their kids. They're home. Home home.

 _~ Your arms are my shelter, your heart is my home ~_

* * *

 **Thanks for reading! Please leave a review and let me know what you think :)**


End file.
